


State of Grace

by Green



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 18:12:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14170659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Green/pseuds/Green
Summary: And then strong arms are holding him up, pulling him close, and Derek can smell him. Family. Strength. Home.Alpha. Derek can't help but let out a small sob in Peter's arms."I've got you," Peter murmurs. "I've got you, Derek."





	State of Grace

**Author's Note:**

> This is for TWCAW's hurt/comfort day!

"C'mon, we're gonna get you out of here," someone says. A boy. Human. Derek doesn't know him but he smells like pack. Derek leans into him, his warmth, and snuffles around his neck where the scent is stronger. The boy smells like toffee and home. Derek whines when he's pushed away. "No time for that, dude. We're leaving."

The dark, horrible room Derek's been held in is opened and everything is hazy because of the drugs but Derek thinks he's getting out. For real this time.

Someone else approaches as they're leaving and Derek stiffens. The boy pets his shoulder. "It's okay, big guy. It's just Peter."

"You found him," says a familiar voice. Derek's head jerks up and he looks, but the person is blurry through the drugs. He knows that voice though. It means happiness and love and pack. Derek stumbles toward him. Toward Peter.

And then strong arms are holding him up, pulling him close, and Derek can smell him. Family. Strength. Home. _Alpha_. Derek can't help but let out a small sob in Peter's arms.

"I've got you," Peter murmurs. "I've got you, Derek."

"We've gotta go," the boy says. 

Derek doesn't know him, doesn't know why he smells like pack and safety. He makes what he hopes is a questioning sound as Peter helps him walk along the corridor.

"That's Stiles." No other explanation. "Okay, I think the coast is clear, but if you can…?"

Derek doesn't know what Peter's talking about, but then he smells it — magic. Something cool and slippery settles over his skin and he shivers.

Peter holds him close. Whispers, "It's to make us invisible. Stay silent if you can. We're getting you out of here."

Derek nods and does his best to keep quiet. Every muscle is screaming, but if it means he's getting away from the hunters, then he'll do anything. Besides, obeying his Alpha isn't a chore. He focuses on walking, leaning heavily on Peter, following Stiles's scent. He can't _see_ the magic user, but he trusts that he's there, keeping them shielded and safe. Peter trusts him, and if Peter does then Derek can only follow suit.

The courtyard of the compound is dirty and Derek thinks wildly of accidentally kicking up dirt and being found out. He shudders at the thought of all three of them being caught. Peter might be able to hold his own for awhile, but there are a lot of hunters here. And Stiles — Derek doesn't know what he has up his sleeves. If he'd be able to get away.

Derek wouldn't. Derek would go back into the cell to rot.

Miraculously, they aren't caught. No one sees their footprints. The cool gel-like sensation of Stiles's magic wears off once they're out the gate and Peter says, "Good. You're doing so good."

Derek doesn't know if he means Stiles or himself. He's so tired and hurt. His head lolls against Peter's shoulder.

"He looks like he's in bad shape," Stiles says.

Peter growls. "There's no telling what they did to him. I smell drugs on him, wolfsbane, and there was an electrical setup in a nearby room. They must have been torturing him."

That sounds about right.

"This whole time?" Stiles asks.

Derek doesn't even know how long it's been. It feels like a lifetime.

"I don't know," Peter says quietly. "Derek, look, can you crawl into the backseat or do you need help?"

Oh, they're at a car now. A Jeep, actually. He didn't see it before. Stiles must have hidden it with magic, too.

Derek nods and moves as best he can. There's a blanket in the backseat that he rests his head on. It smells of pack and comfort. He rubs his cheek against its softness and closes his eyes.

"That's right. Rest, sweet boy," Peter murmurs. A gentle hand caresses Derek's hair.

Something tight in Derek's chest unravels at the endearment.

"Let's get the hell outta here," Stiles says, and the Jeep starts up. Derek can feel the vibrations it makes but the sound is muffled well. More magic.

Derek sighs and falls asleep before they're very far away.

* * *

He doesn't know how long he sleeps, but it must be for a long time, because when he wakes he's _home_. It feels like home, anyway. It must be Beacon Hills, because he feels a connection to the land he doesn't feel anywhere else.

And everything smells like pack. Like safety.

"Drink this," Peter says quietly, and Derek turns his head toward the voice. Blinks slowly as the words register. 

Derek takes small sips of the water, just as Peter orders him to do. He wants to gulp it down but Peter reminds him that'll just make him sick.

He's somewhere soft and comfortable, and he leans more into Peter, as much as he can. He craves his Alpha's warmth and touch. He gets it.

"You're safe, sweet boy. We got you." Peter kisses his temple and Derek lets out a long sigh. He's not much for talking when things are normal, but things are so far from normal right now, and have been for a long time. 

"How long?" Derek asks.

"You've been missing six months," Peter tells him. There's pain in his voice.

Six months. It doesn't sound like so long, and yet Derek experienced that time like it was forever. He'd given up hope. He'd given up completely.

He remembers being taken. He remembers how they killed Laura. He'd been so grateful when the Alpha spark didn't move on to him. He doesn't want to contemplate what the hunters would've done with a pet Alpha. It was bad enough.

He'd known at the time that the only other wolf the spark could go to was Peter. He'd been glad. He and Peter have always been close, though he'd been far away when he was taken. Laura and he had been away at school, and Peter stayed in Beacon Hills to keep an eye on the territory.

He remembers Stiles. Human, but pack. He wants to hear that story, but he's tired. He cuddles closer to his Alpha and lets out a long sigh.

"Get some more sleep, sweetheart," Peter tells him.

Derek's always listened to Peter, and he's so happy to have his Alpha close that of course he'll do what he says.

* * *

When he wakes again, it's to the smell of food and the sound of soft-speaking voices.

"He'll get better," Stiles murmurs. "Please stop blaming yourself so much."

Peter's voice is full of self-recrimination. "I should've been able to find him much sooner. What kind of Alpha does that make me?"

"They used magic to block your pack bond," Stiles says. Derek already knows this. The hunters taunted him with the fact, used it to break him that much more easily.

"I should've figured that out, too," Peter growls softly.

"It took some time but we did, we figured it out together. And now we have him, and he's safe. Please, Peter. Alpha. Stop this."

Derek opens his eyes and watches Stiles kiss his Alpha gently. It's an easy gesture, and speaks of comfort and familiarity. Love, too. Derek would feel jealous if he wasn't so thankful. He's glad Peter had someone when Derek couldn't be there.

But now Derek is feeling a little alone. Superfluous.

"You're awake," Stiles says, smiling at him. 

Derek does his best to smile back. It's tremulous at best.

"Hey, no. You don't have to put on a brave face. We understand you're not yourself," Stiles says, and somehow the words give him permission to just be. Derek moves closer to them. They're in a big bed, he's realizing.

He rests his hand against Peter's chest. He can hear his heartbeat just fine, but he wants to feel it, too.

"How are you feeling?" Peter rumbles.

The drugs haven't completely left his system yet, and he feels weak from the wolfsbane. He's sore everywhere, and more tired than he can put into words, even in his head. But that's not all he's feeling. "I feel safe."

Peter cups the back of his neck and draws pain. "You are. We're home, and no one can get you here. Between my power and Stiles's magic, nothing can get through to you."

Derek shivers at the intense promise in the words. Hears and feels the steady beat of Peter's heart. He's not lying to make Derek feel better. He really is safe here.

He blinks away some of the wetness in his eyes and looks at Stiles. It's the first good look he's gotten of the human, and what he sees is breathtaking.

Stiles is gorgeous. Derek's seen a lot of brown eyes in his life, and he's never been partial to the color. But Stiles's eyes are incredible. Derek's reminded of light reflecting off a forest stream, or through a crystal decanter of Peter's favorite brandy. Eyes that make Derek go poetic in his head when he's only halfway cognizant.

Stiles's nose is cute. Upturned just a bit, but not too small. His skin is pale — no, fair, his uncle would say — with a scattering of moles. His lips… Jesus. Pink with an unexpected cupid's bow.

Derek could stare all day. 

"You okay, big guy?" Stiles asks worriedly. 

"You're beautiful," Derek says, and inwardly winces at the way he just blurted it out. It must be the remnants of the drugs in his system.

Peter hums. "Isn't he, though?" 

Stiles's cheeks turn pink in a fascinating way. "Well you're pretty gorgeous yourself, even looking like death warmed over."

Peter hums again, agreeing. He kisses Derek's hair and then shifts to kiss his lips. "My beautiful boy."

And Derek feels suddenly very insecure. It's probably apparent in his voice when he asks, "Still?"

Peter kisses him again, lingering this time. "Always," he whispers, and Derek melts against him.

But then Derek's stomach rumbles. He clears his throat. Blinks away more tears that threaten. "Did I smell food?"

Peter helps him sit up and Stiles brings a tray. There's toast and soft scrambled eggs, plus some apple slices and melon. The fruit is cool and the toast and eggs are just the right heat. More magic. Derek smiles at Stiles and thanks him.

Stiles shrugs, though he's pink again. 

Thankfully, Derek is steady enough to feed himself. He doesn't mind that Peter hand feeds him the fruit, though. It's not the first time, and Derek always loves the extra attention his uncle gives him.

He's full without finishing half the food on the tray. Derek frowns a little, but Stiles tells him that's normal. He hasn't been eating regular meals. It's best to start off slowly.

Derek nods. "Bathroom?"

There's an en suite. The tub is humongous and looks extremely tempting. Maybe later. Right now he just wants to empty his bladder and go back to bed. Peter holds him steady while he goes, which should be embarrassing but Derek's just relieved he didn't have to try it alone.

When he gets back to bed he notices Stiles is still keeping his distance. Derek's practically plastered to Peter's side but Stiles hangs back, watching. Which is wrong. He's pack.

Derek reaches out and takes Stiles's hand. "C'mere."

"What- oh!" Stiles says as he's pulled into the pile. Peter laughs.

Derek falls asleep with a smile on his face.

* * *

The next time he wakes up, he is craving a shower. He still smells like… that place. Some of it is covered by Peter and Stiles, but he can still smell hunters and pain and misery beneath it all.

The shower is big enough for two with plenty of room. Peter helps strip him down and helps him in. But Derek doesn't want to let go of his Alpha. Peter huffs, strips quickly, and joins him.

"Sorry," Derek says.

Peter gives him an understanding look. "I don't know why you're apologizing. It only makes sense that you want to be close to your pack."

Derek leans against him and lets Peter scrub him. It's not that he can't do it, it just feels so good to be taken care of. There's love in Peter's touch. Maybe even a little desperation. 

"I hate that they had you so long," Peter says. 

"You found me," Derek reminds him. He leans in and initiates a kiss this time, hopes it shows Peter he's absolved of everything.

"I never gave up," Peter says. "Let's wash your hair."

Derek tilts his head back under the water and lets it beat on his scalp. It feels incredible. The water pressure is just right. Peter pulls him back and adds shampoo. The massage is better than the water.

By the time they get out, Derek can't smell hunters anymore. He brushes his teeth and eyes his beard in the mirror. "Got clippers?"

Peter trims his beard so that it's more stubble than wildman. Once he's done, Derek looks like himself again, except for the dark circles under his eyes. He could do with more sleep.

"Thank you," he says, and Peter hugs him from behind. 

"Anything for you, sweet boy."

* * *

Later, when it's dark and everyone is supposed to be sleeping, Derek lets himself cry in relief. It's over. He's safe. He's home.

His pack is curled around him, Stiles's magic thrums in the air, and he can feel the pack bonds inside him again. He misses Laura but he's grieved for her. He has Peter and Stiles now. His pack holds him through the tears.

The drugs are out of his system now. The wolfsbane, too. He feels strong again. Capable. But he's so, so glad he doesn't have to be.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, please consider leaving a comment. :)


End file.
